


with the lights turned up, it's hard to hide

by wyverary



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, High School AU, Modern AU, autistic wendla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyverary/pseuds/wyverary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendla looks for Ilse at a school dance and has a meltdown, but it turns out fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	with the lights turned up, it's hard to hide

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first creative writing piece ive done in the last 2 years so let me live  
> but also tear this shit apart dont spare me the criticism  
> anyway my autistic ass made wendla autistic & in order to draw from my experiences as a (hearing) autistic person, i wrote wendla as hearing bc sound sensitivity is a big thing for me?? in this case its hard to write from perspectives that arent personally relatable  
> anyway this is rly gay enjoy

Were school dances always this terrible? The loud music and spinning lights that filled the gym were out of sync and they overwhelmed Wendla’s senses. She couldn't go anywhere without being blinded by the glare of the strobe lights or bumping into some drunk asshole that the chaperones couldn’t catch. But she came to have a good time. That, and also because Ilse wanted her to come.

Ilse and Wendla had been friends since kindergarten, and maybe they weren't as close as they were back then, but Wendla still couldn't say no to the twinkle in her eyes. She had looked so happy at the thought of her being there to have fun, _to have the best high school experience, Wendla._ Even then, her heart still clenched when she thought about being there with Ilse, but not being there _with_ Ilse. It was tragic.  
So here she was, standing by the snack table, taking advantage of the free Redvines. The tickets were expensive enough, it was the least the administration could do to throw out the food prices. It’s just a shame they never used that money to fix the leaks in the classrooms. Or to fix the bathroom stalls. Or to do anything else with the money that would actually help the students. But she couldn’t really complain when she was filling herself up on said free snacks. She just couldn’t win. When did she become so cynical? she wondered. _When she realized she was in love with one of her most valued friends._ Wendla didn’t need this right now.

Sure, Wendla loved her other friends. They were a steady support system. They grounded her. But it was hard to feel intimate with them when they didn't seem to care more about their friendship than their love lives. She didn’t always feel that they understood her. Ilse was more than that. Ilse wasn't afraid to show that she cared, and she cared more than anyone.  
Why was this so fucking cheap? Ilse’s been through too much shit. Why should Wendla expect anything from her like this? How greedy could she be? Just some relatable snack table thoughts.  
All this and she still hasn't seen Ilse. Sure, the crowd is packed too tightly to breathe in the middle of the dimly-lit gymnasium, but she's so far gone that she knows she could spot her anywhere.  
Honestly, without Ilse there to ground her, Wendla was starting to get overwhelmed. Too many people crowded around her, boxing her in. The lights were too. bright. Music t o o l o u d. Processing failed. Nothing working. Please. Get. Me. Out. Help.  
She found herself in the girls' bathroom, shaking on the floor of the big stall. Her head rested on her knees that were pulled up to her chest. Her face was buried in the blue cotton of her skirt. If she tried really hard, she could imagine that the floor wasn't grimy and that the cold wall wasn’t biting into her skin. Kind of.  
This is why her mother was embarrassed of her. She couldn't bring Wendla anywhere without her malfunctioning. When Mrs. Bergmann yelled at her daughter for _freaking out in the middle of the mall do you want people to stare are you trying to make a scene Wendla listen to me, ___Ilse was always there to tell her she was okay. That there was nothing wrong with her. Wendla couldn’t say for sure if she believed her, but Ilse petting her hair with her gentle fingers was so pleasant. Especially after those harsh words tore through her eardrums. And stayed there. Lived there. Always.  
But Ilse wasn't here now. Ilse wasn’t here. Ilse was off somewhere under the flashing lights of the gym. Probably wondering where she was. Maybe she ditched her. At this point, Wendla couldn't tell.  
What she could tell was that somebody was opening her stall to take a piss. She got up to leave, and when she did, she came face to face with the woman of the hour, clad in black and gold taffeta.  
"Wendla! You're here!"  
Wendla managed to choke out a response, "Well, I said that I might come."  
Her voice shook and she looked down at her feet. Ilse’s smile slid away. She could already tell that Wendla was in a bad state. Wendla couldn't look her in the eyes and she was still quivering the slightest bit.  
Ilse didn't speak, but she slowly reached out her arms and let her collapse into them.  
"Is this my fault?" she asked. Was she scared?  
Wendla drew away, shocked. "Of course not! Don’t say that."  
"Can you tell me what's wrong, then?".  
Wendla leaned back against the tile. Her mind spun. How could she even talk about this without Ilse feeling responsible? Or worse, cutting her losses and completely scrubbing her hands of her? Nobody wanted to deal with someone like her, let alone be friends. Dating her was just out of the question.  
But she couldn't lie. Not to her. Ilse had seen her at her worst. She wasn’t a stranger to Wendla’s breakdowns. What could possibly drive her away at this point?  
"I just...hate the lights. So much. And the noise. And the crowd. It's all inside my head and I can't stop it from sticking there, and there’s so many people, and there’s nowhere to go and I need to leave and it’s too stuffy and I feel like I’m about to scream and...."  
Does she even understand what she's saying? She's nodding, she must at least be sympathetic. Or maybe she just pitied her.  
But then she said "Can I hug you?"  
Wendla was taken aback but quickly nodded. Ilse was so tall and warm. She was protection. Ilse was naturally affectionate, but every time she hugged her, Wendla still felt blessed. She tucked her head into Ilses neck.  
Ilse was running her fingers through her dark hair. Wendla couldn't help but lift her head up to gaze upon those stars in her eyes; the ones she longed to reach for in the night.  
She wasn't thinking.  
She’d gotten carried away, and leaned in, and-  
Ilse was cradling her head as they kissed. Before she knew it, her hands had moved to her back holding her close as she leaned back against the stall. Wendla wrapped her arms around her neck. She had to keep her close. Ilse was making the slightest noise against her lips and it was one sound Wendla wouldn’t mind hearing on repeat in her head.  
Ilse’s hair was so soft. Her mouth on hers was so grounding. This shitty bathroom felt disconnected from the rest of the world. It was their space and they didn't need to think about the people outside the stalls. This was their own. They were drifting away.  
Eventually, Wendla had to pull away, to catch her breath, to catch up with what just happened. She hadn't let go of Ilse and she dropped her head onto her shoulder. She floated on the waves of Ilse’s soft breathing.  
"That helped," she whispered in her ear.  
Ilse chuckled lightly. Wendla was grateful that she didn’t mention her having to stand on her tiptoes to reach her ear.  
"I'd be glad to help you at any time,” she whispered back.  
A few moments passed in their shared headspace, until Ilse brought her face-to-face.  
"You want me to drive you home? We can make hot chocolate, stay up watching High School Musical, just relax. What d’ya say?"  
Wendla sighed.  
"That sounds perfect." 

**Author's Note:**

> lmao the title is from "houdini" by foster the people dont sue me  
> this is literal shit bye im so sorry i just gotta Post My Content I Gotta


End file.
